Forbidden In-Law

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Forbidden In-Law Page 4

by Carmen Falcone

“Do you want me to get you some sweet tea?” She offered. “Or a Shiner?”

  He closed the distance between them, pulling her into his arms. “I can think of a different way you can quench my thirst.”

  Vincent slammed his lips on hers, his arms wrapping her in an airtight embrace. Her heart throbbed against her ribcage, the maddening pulse expanding to her ears. She linked her arms around his head, thrusting her fingers into his hair, loving his groan against her lips.

  She squirmed against him, every female part needing more from her male counterpart. His cock poked her, hard and undeniable. She was thankful the overgrown trees were due for a trimming. Her fences faced a greenbelt no one visited this time of year, and her neighbors from either side usually arrived home much later. They had the privacy they needed.

  “Let’s take this inside,” he murmured, nipping at her lower lip and sending a jolt of excitement through her.

  “No,” she said, touching his bare, incredibly sexy male chest. “We’re doing it here.”

  He peered at her, his hazel eyes darkening to matte black. Her limbs loosened, and she almost fell on her ass. The way he looked at her, with quiet hunger, never failed to melt her insides.

  In a matter of weeks he’d leave her town, her house, her life. She needed to have memories of Vincent screwing her in every room and nook of her home to replace all the loneliness and darkness from before. This is me being hopeful.

  He led her to the porch area facing the greenbelt, leaning into the wooden rail. She hoped it wouldn’t give out while they fucked. As he pressed into it, a lazy creak filled the air, and she suppressed a chuckle. Her house was falling apart… and he was the man helping her pull it back together. Vincent.

  “I jacked off today, thinking of you,” he whispered in her ear, his breath fanning her lobe. Goosebumps rose on her arms, and she moaned, delighted with his candor. Vincent wasn’t a man of many words, but he did make them count.

  “Yeah?” She touched his chest, which gave a light shiver under her caress. She reveled in the chance to feel his bumps and ridges, the smoothness of his skin covering the hardness of his body. The body of a man who worked hard. “What was I doing?”

  “You were sucking my cock. Then I fucked you over the kitchen table until we both came.”

  She slid her hand down, stopping on his waistband. “I think the real-life version is better.”

  “Let’s see,” he hissed out.

  She unzipped his pants, and squealed when his cock greeted her without the confines of underwear. Moaning, she fisted his large cock, then ran the tip of her finger up and down his length. He threw back his head, closing his eyes for a moment, his lips thinned like he wanted to trap a guttural sound inside.

  A sense of empowerment traveled down her spine, and she continued her exploration, loving to fondle his velvety skin, pleased that he was that phenomenally hard for her.

  Unable to wait any longer, she kneeled in front of him. He watched her, and though she felt her cheeks warming, she kept going with her plan. This was in plain daylight, unlike when they’d made love in the room after dark. Or in the living room the day before. The rays of sunshine greeted them, and his every reaction she’d imprint in her mind.

  She licked his cock, her tongue lazily swirling around his salty flesh.

  He groaned. “That’s right, Natalie. You like my cock, don’t you?”

  “I love it,” she said, squeezing his heavy, tight balls. “Every part of you is so big and overpowering.”

  “It’s all for you, baby. All for your naughty mouth and body.”

  She continued to lap at his cock, as a coat of her own essence drenched her underwear. Pleasuring him made her feel fucking hot, and aroused.

  “Fuck, Natalie, you’re killing me. You suck me so good, baby. No one ever sucked me the way you do. You want me so much.”

  “Yes I do, I do.” She licked him. “I can feel you’re close,” she said, tasting the pre-cum from his head.

  “God, yes. Do you want me, Natalie? Do you want all of me? My seed, in your throat, as I fuck your sexy mouth until I explode inside of you?”

  Her pussy clenched. “Yes. Oh, God, yes. I want it, Vincent. So bad.”

  “Don’t move, darlin’,” he said, holding her shoulder. “Let me fill you with my load.”

  She remained still, and he began thrusting and withdrawing himself out of her. She parted her lips wider, feeling him throb inside her, his veins expanding. Soon, he released his jism, and she swallowed him, tasting him, allowing the generous flow of his hot seed down her throat. When he stopped and slipped his semi-hard cock out of her mouth, she licked a drop from the corner of her mouth with her tongue.

  “What am I going to do with you, Natalie?” he said, stretching out his hand to help her to her feet.

  “Oh, I have some ideas.”

  A devilish smile formed on his lips.

  Then, the sound of the doorbell along with some hard knocks on the front door almost made her jump.

  “Stay here, love. I’ll go see who it is,” he said, zipping up his pants, and grabbing the white undershirt he’d removed earlier from the outdoor metal chair. Love. Why had he used that term of endearment with so many others available? A warm sensation moved through him, and he found himself smiling as he crossed her house.

  Just because Natalie brought out his soft side didn’t mean he’d lost his common sense. Their “relationship” was nothing more than a fling—a controversial and forbidden fling, should anyone find out.

  When he opened the door, Dina greeted him. “Oh. Hey.”

  His breath caught in his throat, and he had to swallow the lump of guilt. If his ex found out he was banging Clint’s widow… “Dina. Hi.”

  “Natalie told me she was going to the store, and she left the shop but forgot her cell phone,” Dina said, fishing Natalie’s cell phone from her bag. “Can you give it to her when she comes back?” She offered it to him, and he took it.

  “Of course.”

  “Who is it?” Natalie’s voice sounded from behind him. “Dina?” she asked, with a nervous smile on her lips.

  Vincent stretched to his full height, wishing he could disappear. This was the first time he faced both of them after he’d slept with Natalie. “Dina came by to give you your cell that you forgot.” He handed it to her.

  Natalie took it from him. “Thanks, Dina.”

  Dina waved it off. “Don’t sweat it, kid. I’m on my way to bingo night. I just wanted to drop this off. I thought you’d be at the store.”

  Natalie clutched the phone in her hands. “Right. I forgot some coupons, so I came home to get them.”

  “Alright.” Dina clapped her hands together. “Well, I better get going. You know how Pastor Abbott gets when one of us is late for bingo. Maybe some other time I can see all the renovations you’re doing in the place, Vincent.”

  “Yes ma’am,” he said, saluting her. “Sounds like a plan.”

  “Thanks. Y’all have a good night.”

  He turned around and he closed the door, letting out a sigh. Man. I’m too old for this shit.

  Natalie put the cell phone on the table, and clasped her hands together. She shot him a concerned glance, and he didn’t need much reading between the lines to figure out why. Natalie may not feel guilty because of the crappy husband Clint must have been to her, but she didn’t want to hurt Dina. That much was obvious. Well, damn it, neither did he.

  “Do you think she noticed anything?” she asked.

  He scratched his day-old stubble. “Nah. Doubt it.”

  Her shoulders dropped a notch. “I feel bad about lying to her.”

  “You can have your own life, Natalie. And do what you want.”

  She winked at him. “And who I want.”

  “Listen, I don’t give a frog’s fat ass about what Dina thinks of me. She’s no angel herself. I agreed to keep this quiet because you know how she was attached to— he stopped in his tracks, words trailing off. Attached to their son.
The son whose wife just swallowed his cum.

  She stepped in his direction, but he stepped back, rubbing the back of his neck. “Don’t you dare,” she said. “Everything’s peachy as long as we’re screwing. Otherwise you just don’t communicate.”

  “What’s there to say?”

  “I’m sorry for lying to Dina, as I hate lying in general. But what’s happening here,” she said, circling her index finger, gesturing to both of them, “for that, I’m not sorry. You know why? Because I had a crappy ass husband. I was weak, and I didn’t leave when I should have. I waited until it got worse.”

  A flicker of pain flashed in her pretty eyes, and his jaw clenched. Damn it. This wasn’t a convenient rationalization to sleep with him—she’d been hurt. He curled his fingers into a ball. He could punch the bastard—his own son for Christ’s sake—for causing her so much heartache. I need to come to terms with Clint being the one who did this to her. “I’m sorry.”

  Challenge supplanted the pain in her eyes. “I’m done waiting. I’m done not doing what I want to do.”

  “Fair enough. What do you want?”

  “I want you. I want to have you for as long as you’re in town,” she said, then worried her bottom lip. “If you’ll have me.”

  If I will have her? He yanked her into his arms, his lips lowering to hers. Oh, how he loved to stroke her curves, to caress her soft skin and smell her feminine fragrance. She tugged at his shirt, and, understanding her need for skin-on-skin contact, he broke the kiss to pull his shirt over his head, and threw it on the floor.

  Unable to wait, he gripped both sides of her dress, and ripped it off of her. An insane carnal urge pounded in his veins, causing him to want to show her just how badly he’d have her—anytime, anywhere. She moaned, the sound soothing his ears like balm on a fresh wound.

  “Vincent.”

  He rested his forehead against hers. “I know, baby.”

  He captured her lips in his again, delving his tongue into her mouth. He intensified the contact, and she squirmed into him, her bra and panties rubbing against his bare chest and jeans. His cock strained against his pants, the craving surprising even himself. His body responded to her like it hadn’t screwed in decades, each time hungrier and more ready.

  She reached for the back of her bra and unclasped it, her eyes on his. When she slid the beige underwear off her arms, he sucked in his breath. Damn it, she’s stunning.

  She ran her hand from her neck to her chest, touching her tits. She made a circling pattern around her aureoles, showing him the goods. “Like what you see?”

  He nodded.

  She slid her hand to the hem of her panties, and pulled them down just enough to flash her pelvic bones. “Think you can handle me while you’re in Suarez? Am I not too much for you?” she said, a touch of mischief in her voice. “I’d hate to distract you from all the remodeling you’ve got planned.”

  He narrowed the gap between them, inching closer, aroused as fuck. Then, he slid a couple of fingers into her underwear, watching her respond to him. Closely.

  Her lips opened in an “o”, her eyelashes sweeping over her eyes. Swiftly, he flicked her clit with light touches, teasing the bud, as she bucked into his hand. She parted her thighs, and he took advantage and furthered his exploration, slipping into her drenched folds.

  “I’m so hot for you,” she moaned.

  He thrust his finger deeper into her, then withdrew it immediately. Her head bobbed, her pupils dilated, glossy with arousal. “I know you are. I can taste it.” He took his finger, nicely coated with her delicious pearly essence, into his mouth.

  She stared at him, somewhat fascinated. He outlined her lips with the same fingers, in a silent bonding pact. She sucked his finger into her mouth, at the same time she lowered her hand down his body, squeezing it into his jeans without bothering to open the fly.

  When she touched his rod, he groaned. Because of the tightness of the jeans and his cock, she couldn’t move her hand as freely as he would have liked. The simple act of placing it over his meat caused his blood pressure to skyrocket, sending his desire into overdrive. Every part of him throbbed with awareness, wanting more.

  “Your pussy, mouth or ass? Where do you want me?” he asked, barely able to form sentences.

  She glanced at him, tilting her head to one side as if she pondered his question. “Pussy,” she said at last.

  Pussy it is. “Perfect.” He clasped her elbow, and led her to the formal dining area, where he bent her over the old, wooden round table. He nudged her legs apart with his own, and she acquiesced, lifting her butt.

  Vincent took in the delicious sight in front of him… Natalie, wearing only her underwear, yearning for him. When he pulled down her panties, they slid off her velvety skin, and he caught a whiff of her addictive aroused female scent. He made his way up again, and couldn’t resist her large, dimpled ass.

  Excited, he took a bite of her plump flesh, and she gasped, squirming.

  “I-I said no ass today,” she said, her voice shaky.

  “Not today,” he repeated to himself rather than to her. Hell, he’d give a body part to be able to slam into her naughty hole, but he’d wait. Give her more time to get used to him and his size. “Doesn’t mean we can’t mess around a bit,” he said, and kneaded her cheeks.

  She moaned at first, then something must have occurred to her because she clenched her butt.

  He stood upright, sighing. Why was she scared? He wouldn’t do anything she didn’t want. He kissed the top of her head, and gave a beat or two until she softened against him, the tension from her back gone.

  Good. He wanted her soft and warm and willing and lovely.

  He’d ask her later why she tensed up at the idea of receiving some good ol’ butt love. Now, he’d enjoy the sensations building in his body. Sensations only she evoked at such a high level. Sensations he needed to sate before the end of his stay in Suarez, Texas. For his good and hers.

  Chapter 6

  Natalie slid onto the table, the sweat from her body giving her no support to prop her elbows. Thankfully, Vincent grabbed her from behind, and scooped her in his arms. After a long day of working at the bakery and their steamy sex session, she needed a break.

  “Stay here,” he said, placing her on the worn old sofa she’d bought from a second hand store when her old one gave out.

  She sprawled on the couch, naked, and the rough fabric felt strangely smooth against her skin. Maybe she’d enjoyed their lovemaking so much, even her crappy furniture seemed better.

  Enjoyed most of it, anyway. When he’d kissed and nipped her ass, she’d balked. A memory of Clint forcing entry in that area, even when she’d changed her mind a second too late after agreeing, had stabbed at her. He’d been drunk, and he’d always wanted to try anal sex with her. She’d ended up agreeing, but when she’d realized he hadn’t grabbed a condom, he didn’t have lube or hadn’t done anything remotely compassionate to make it better for her, she’d changed her mind. Too late, he’d said.

  That had been the only time he’d taken her against her will.

  She hadn’t made a fuss or put up a fight, except from trying to escape his grasp and asking him to do it the old-fashioned way, but he’d taken advantage of her.

  “Are you okay?” Vincent asked, his deep baritone pulling her from her dark thoughts.

  She cleared her throat. “Yes, what’s this?” she asked, glancing at the hand towel he’d carried.

  He unfolded the towel, and placed it on her sex. It felt nice, damp and warm; he must have run some hot water on it in the bathroom. “It’s a quick way to clean you up before I make us dinner. Figured you can shower later. Do you want me to bring you a blanket?”

  She shook her head. “You cook?”

  He gave her a rueful smile. “I went shopping while you were at work. Got some vegetables and a New York strip steak. Figured I could do some grilling and offer you a night off from kitchen duty.”

  She couldn’t remember the l
ast time someone cooked specially for her. Her mom never excelled at it, favoring microwave dinners and junk food. Her father remarried a couple of times, but his wives never really bothered making special meals for her. Dina had her over sometimes, more out of generosity to share whatever she had for dinner with her. A hot man, in her kitchen, preparing a meal? Nope. Never happened before. “Sounds good. Thanks.”

  He pressed the cloth gently on her pussy, and the firmness of his hand made a bubble burst inside her. Determined, he kept on cleaning the sticky stuff from her thighs without trying to make her even wetter. Not that it mattered. Her clit pulsed anyway, telling her she may not be up to it, but her body always responded to his touch.

  When he stopped cleaning her, he grabbed the blanket and covered her. “Why’d you tense up when I touched your ass?”

  She propped herself on her elbows. “Is that why you’re being all nice to me?”

  He rolled his eyes. “I went shopping this morning before you came home,” he said, then shrugged. “Just curious. You need to know I won’t ever make you do anything you don’t want, Natalie. I respect your boundaries. I respect you.”

  “Thanks.” She sat on the sofa, pulling the blanket over herself. She doubted this was a conversation she wanted to have naked. He always shut down when she mentioned Clint. Maybe now she should go ahead and tell him. “You’re right, I’m not very comfortable with ass play. Not that I don’t trust you. Vincent, ‘cause I do. It’s just… the last time, the only time I was taken back there, it hurt.”

  Vincent opened his mouth, but no sound came out. His eyes darkened, and she slid her gaze down his body, noticing the tension stretching his muscles. “What happened?”

  “He kept doing it, even when I asked him to stop. Until then, that had never been a problem. He didn’t try again, anyway, after this failed attempt,” she said, clasping her hands together in a silent clap, brushing her clammy palms. “I—

  Vincent squinted. “He?”

  “Clint. He was drunk. He apologized the next morning,” she added.

  Vincent snorted, tapping his foot on the floor. “Hell, apologizing fixes everything, right?”

 

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